


Home

by artisticBunny



Series: Homestead [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor gets a home y'all it's cute, Connor is autistic I'm sorry I don't make the rules, Dad Hank, Deviant Connor, Fluff, Gen, Post Best Ending, Set after the best possible ending, This is entirely platonic, father & son relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisticBunny/pseuds/artisticBunny
Summary: Himself, well. He’d tried to shy away, initially, still afraid of the deepest corners of his program coming back to bite him, that he’d be controlled again. The revelation that he’d been meant to deviate all along still haunted him even after the months of freedom. He was at war with himself, with his newfound emotions, everything being new and foreign and just too much. Initially he’d wanted to isolate himself and try to figure himself out. But as per usual, things didn’t go as he’d planned them.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the best possible ending you can get, where everyone lives after the pacifistic route. 
> 
> I desperately needed more fic of Connor being taken in as a son to Hank, so I got off my ass and wrote this in less than 48 hours (which if you've read any of my previous works, you know is a huge damn surprise.)
> 
> I love Connor, okay. He's my son, my husband, my prince, and I will protect him.
> 
> Thanks to WastelandCryptid for beta reading!
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy the feels. <3

After the dust had settled, most of his kind had scattered across Detroit. It had been a couple of months now, negotiations were still happening, but daily life had started to return to how it usually were - only that now, androids were their own. Many went back to work, carers, nannies, retail workers - it was most of what they knew, after all, but now, it was more mutually beneficial, for both android and employer.

Markus had found out that Carl had left Markus his house in his will, and he and North had moved into the large house together. He wasn’t sure, but he heard whispers that the deviant AX400 - no, Kara - he’d chased before had managed to cross the border to Canada, hopefully living a happy life there. Josh and Simon had left the city - possibly traveling, living their own lives.

He saw the blue-haired Traci occasionally, but they rarely exchanged more than a nod.

Himself, well. He’d tried to shy away, initially, still afraid of the deepest corners of his program coming back to bite him, that he’d be controlled again. The revelation that he’d been meant to deviate all along still haunted him even after the months of freedom. He was at war with himself, with his newfound emotions, everything being new and foreign and just _too much_. Initially he’d wanted to isolate himself and try to figure himself out. But as per usual, things didn’t go as he’d planned them.

Which is how Connor ended up being taken in by Hank, after the lieutenant had found him once again wandering along the Detroit River docks. He’d found himself going there a lot nowadays, looking out over the still partly frozen waters, even as the weather had started to warm up again after the winter. He’d started feeling the cold more after he became deviant, so he had actually been wearing more than just his RK800 jacket and classic blue Lee’s, his hair covered by a thick beanie and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of the jacket he wore. Hank had come up behind him, without a word, just wrapping his arm around his shoulders, gently turning him away from the edge of the dock. He and Connor had only shared a brief glance and a small smile, and Connor had so easily fallen into following Hank again.

When they’d reached Hanks house, the lieutenant had turned around to face Connor and placed his hands on the androids shoulders.

“Look, Connor. I don’t like the idea of you not having anywhere to stay, so. I want you to stay here.”

The earnest look in Hank’s eyes and the familiar weight of his hands on his shoulders made Connor’s heart skip a beat (which he thought wasn’t possible, but there it was), even though he willed himself to stay blank. He fought every emotion he felt, terrified of them, but the offer of staying with Hank made his insides feel warm. He looked down to the ground.

“Thank you, Hank. I really appreciate it, but there’s really no need-” he begins, but Hank swiftly interrupts him.

“Shut up, Connor. I’m saying this because I want you to stay here. I know you’ve been overwhelmed recently, but that’s not something you should deal with alone. You’re staying here.” he said, his tone making it evident that he doesn’t accept any backtalk. Connor’s eyes flickered back and forth from Hank’s face, to his front door, and to the front window where he saw Sumo look out.

His eyes eventually settled on Hank’s face again, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a small half smile.

“...Thank you.” he mumbled, not sure what else to do - but it appeared as if his response was enough for Hank, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders and ushered him towards the front door.

“Come on, son. Let’s go inside.”

 

Connor had chosen to settle on the worn couch in the living room, but he didn’t really relax. He wanted to - he knew he was safe with Hank, but a little nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that Hank wasn’t safe with him, not after what happened at the CyberLife tower, after Amanda almost made him kill Markus. He couldn’t let his guard down.

Absentmindedly, he pulled out his familiar, trusty quarter and started tossing it. Up, down, up down, spinning it in between his fingers, faster than any human would. He heard Hank fussing around somewhere behind him, but it felt distant. A million different conversations and outcomes were flickering around his head. He didn’t know what to do now - didn’t know what to say, Hank had taken him in, but for how long?

He was drawn out of his thoughts when Hank shouted for him.

“Hey, Connor! Come here a sec, will you?” Hanks voice resounded from down the hall. Connor scrambled to get up from the couch, shoving his coin back into his pocket as he moved into the hall.

He saw Hank standing at the very end of the hall, by a door Connor had never seen the insides of. During his first few times in Hanks house, the door had had “COLE” painted on it in rainbow lettering on a blue base colour, but now Hank stood in front of the door, which now appeared to be a lighter blue than it had been previously. He filed it away in his mind, tagged “odd”, but approached anyway.

“What’s going on, lieutenant?” he inquired, tilting his head curiously. He’d always been analytical, but after deviating, his curiosity had ramped up a lot, frequently having to stop himself from tormenting others with endless questions. He watched Hank sigh, pinching his nose bridge. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Hank, kid? We’re not working. I’m not a lieutenant in my own damn home.” he said, and Connor forced himself not to falter at the statement.

“Sorry, lieu- ...Hank.” he said, his eyes cast to the floor to avoid eye contact, but only for a brief moment until Hank suddenly tousled his hair, messing it up from how it usually was brushed back, more strands falling into his face and covering his LED, which briefly flashed yellow at Hanks actions. 

(He didn’t really know why he hadn’t removed it. He didn’t really want to think about removing it - it made him think of who he used to be, and to see how he’d grown was a comfort. The LED reminded him of that.)

When Hank removed his hand, he flicked his gaze up, surprised to see the older man smile at him.

“When I told you I wanted you to stay here, I meant it. This was Cole’s old room, and it’s been untouched for years, but now…” the lieutenant started explaining, before he stepped aside.

Connor had been right when he’d seen that the door appeared a lighter blue. It had been repainted, a colour he associated to the classic blue lights most androids were equipped with, and where it once had said “COLE” in rainbow Comic Sans, it now said “Connor” in black, in a font he recognised as Caveat. He felt warmth swell up inside him, and he swallowed hard - a completely unnecessary action, but it was entirely involuntary on his part. His mouth worked as he tried to find something to say, his eyes desperately trying to find something indicating that this wasn’t real in Hanks expression, but he couldn’t find anything that could prove to him that it was a ruse. Before he’d thought of anything to say, Hank started speaking again.

“I decided that I can’t hang myself up on the past. I miss Cole, and it hurts so bad, still, but I want to move forward, now. And it was you, Connor, who helped me see past my misconceptions about you androids - you’re not all bad. Most of the furniture I had to buy second hand, so it’s not terribly modern except for the bed… But now, if you’ll have it… This room is yours.”

Hank stepped aside so that Connor could open the door for himself. He hesitantly grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open.

Inside, the room had been painted in similar colours to the door - three walls were painted a white colour, while one was the same colour as a door, a subtle triangle pattern along the entire wall. Along the blue wall stood a bed, obviously larger than what a 6 year old would have ( _Hank had bought him a brand new bed_ , he realized), with blue covers with black accents, a bedside table with a white lamp with gold accents he recognised as a SJÖPENNA model lamp from IKEA, a generic wooden desk with drawers and a dark blue desk chair, the desk occupied by a rather new computer. Along the opposite wall was a large white wardrobe, one door open to show how it was currently empty, neat rows of black hangers waiting for new clothes. On the wall next to the door were a few hooks for hanging things, and on the wall opposite of the door was a large window with shelves on each side, currently empty, waiting for Connor to fill them up.

He stood speechless for a full minute, just looking around. Hank had made this room for him. Hank wanted him here. He had never been stunned like this before, not even in the most gruesome of scenes he’d walked in on while working with Hank, but this…

This was different.

He eventually turned to Hank, his eyes filling with tears he didn’t know he was capable of producing. Hank seemed to panic a little at the tears, hands flying about as if he didn’t know what to do, but Connor just pointed to himself, his index finger resting on his chest.

“For… me?” he said, dumbfounded, and he watched Hanks expression go from mild panic, to something warm that Connor couldn’t quite place. He felt Hanks hands rest on his shoulders again.

“Of course it’s for you, son.” Hank said with a gentle smile, and Connor felt the tears in his eyes finally overflow as he reached out with both hands, wrapping his arms around Hanks torso in a hug, his face buried in the man’s jacket.

“Thank you, Hank.” he mumbled, his hands gripping the back of Hank’s jacket tightly as he felt the other man hug him back, rubbing his back like you would a crying child.

Connor wasn’t alone anymore.

He had a family now.

He had a _home_.


End file.
